Son of the Sky
by OathBorn Brothers
Summary: Harry Potter, spawn of Zeus, destined to walk in two worlds with both wizarding and divine blood flowing through his veins. Yet, the world is a cruel place, will Harry be able to survive, and, perhaps even more importantly, what will be left when the dust settles? As titanic forces struggle for control, Harry must remain vigilant for the fate of the world rests on his shoulders.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I, user OathBorn Brothers, am in no way profiting monetarily from this work. Should any ideas originate from a place other than the original Harry Potter books, Percy Jackson books or my imagination they will be referenced at the top of the chapter in which they are used.

Be aware that I will often stray from the Harry Potter books, though many differences will be due to the two worlds interacting with one another. The plan is that this will be a trilogy. The first book (this one) will mainly stay within the Harry Potter world as it follows Harry in his journey through Hogwarts, but will, as mentioned above, not stay completely true to Harry Potter lore as my own ideas and influences from the Percy Jackson world filter in. The main plot through the Trilogy is my own and so does not originate from either worlds or any fan fiction I have read. Please read and review, constructive critique, supportive comments and suggestions are all welcome.

This first chapter I simply wrote because I dislike how the scene, and magical combat in general, was handled in the book. Thus this will be a shorter chapter to serve as an introduction to my writing stile and a taste of what magical combat will be like. Enjoy!

Ps. I will be updating approximately every two weeks.

 **Prologue: When Dark Lords Come Knocking**

The Dark Lord approached the house, apprehension rising within him. This night, he would finally be free of the accursed prophecy that had haunted his steps ever since that fateful day when Snape had brought it to him. In less than an hour, there would be no one left who could defy him. Dumbledore and his precious Order were failing; the Longbottom's, who had long been a thorn in his side, would die tonight at the hands of his most loyal follower and he would personally take care of the Potters'. Tonight, the order would lose some of their best aurors and with them, their will to fight; their hope. Tomorrow, the ministry would fall.

When he was but five meters from the door, the Dark Lord held out one hand, and, with a slight twisting gesture followed by a thrust, the door collapsed in on itself and went flying into the house. At the same time, he held up a large black opal in his other hand and released the spells stored therein; preventing most forms of magical transportation in the area.

He entered the doorway just in time to see a woman rushing up the stairs, his attention, however, was drawn to his right where the outline of a man was barely visible through the flash of light created by the multitude of spells pouring out from his wand as water emerging from a small hole under pressure. Yet they splashed helplessly against the defences provided by various magical items on the Dark Lord as surely as though they had hit a wall of dragon-steel.

The spells that were sent against the him were barely damaging the Dark Lords' shields. Having faced the man previously in battle, the Dark Lord knew that the Lord Potter was a capable fighter and was surprised at the level of resistance. He recognised one of the spells as … a jelly legs jinx? As the Dark Lord was considering this, an angry red hex was sent his way, cutting a path straight through his shields and narrowly missing his chest as he leapt to the side. Taking out a small stone, the Dark Lord whispered a few words before throwing it to the centre of the room, where it remained, pulling spells towards it and growing in size for every spell that touched it. The high-level spells passed overhead almost unaffected by the pull, but the weaker ones were drawn to the stone.

Not willing to allow his opponent time to rethink his approach, the Dark Lord began a retaliatory strike. Spells flashed out of his wand furiously as he attempted to overwhelm the mans' shields through raw power. The Lord, rather than meeting these spells head-on, used transfiguration and agility to avoid these spells at the same time as he activated the defences of the manor. The Dark Lord was forced to take a step back and focus of defence as the house came to life around him – what wasn't spelled to animate and attack the him was transfigured by his enemy and used as a weapon.

The carpet came to life and tried to keep him down as flying swords came from upstairs to slash at him. Lord Potter grabbed a bunch of cutlery and transfigured them into swarms of bees, before enlarging them and sending them to attack. Small dragon statues animated and began spewing fire at him as windows melted into some form of corrosive liquid that oozed its' way towards him.

The Dark Lord Levitated himself into the air before conjuring a gigantic whirlwind around himself. Concentrating, he directed the conjured air to sweep all the obstacles into a gigantic, and very dangerous, ball and hurled it at Lord Potter. Seeing his peril, Lord Potter deactivated the defences such that the ball was now but a mixture of glass, wood and stone before vanquishing the mass.

The Dark Lord gave him no time to recover, as he immediately grabbed the pebble he had previously thrown on the floor and channelled the power it had collected such that it began summoning fiends from the various planes. Huge creatures of rock and fire blared into existence right in the middle of the Potters' living room. In response, Lord Potter took out a small sapphire, formed into a perfect oval, and from it summoned a gigantic elemental of his own; a monstrous beast of water that dwarfed everything else in sight. With a vengeance it attacked and destroyed the other elementals, then turned and reared up as if to strike its' wielder before it was summoned back into the sapphire.

Taking advantage of his enemies' preoccupation, the Dark Lord cast powerful shield breaking curses that smashed straight through Lord Potters' defences. The Lord turned to the Dark Lord, his eyes grim and determined, and cast one final spell before faltering and falling to the ground, barely conscious.

Lightning surged forth from the wand, striking the Dark Lords' defences and withering them away as the items powering them were exhausted from protecting against the spell, hitting the Dark Lord and throwing him back against the wall. Furious, the Dark Lord climbed his feet and turned towards the man sending the killing curse his way, knowing that the Lord would be too fatigued to summon anything to block it or to leap out of the way. The aim was true, and the spell struck Lord Potter, killing him instantly.

The Dark Lord, after shooting one last look of disgust upon corpse of the lord of the house, started up the stairs whilst erecting some temporary defences. He would have to proceed more carefully now. He ascended slowly up the stairs, wary of any remaining defences, yet none came. Upon reaching the top, he was met with a strange scene. A young child was standing in small crib in the centre of the room, golden eyes glowing fiercely as he looked at the intruder. To the child's left was his mother, her wand limp in her hand as she crawled over to stand in between the child and the Dark Lord. The air was so thick with magic that it could be felt by all three, each feeling the effects differently. To the Dark Lord, the air felt oppressive and it filled him with a sense of urgency and, to some lesser degree, fear. The woman felt a sense of foreboding and acknowledgement and the child; comfort and serenity.

"Stand aside woman, and I shall let you live."

In stark contrast to the booming voice of the Dark Lord, came a lighter voice, shaking a little, yet determined.

"Never … Take my life if you have to take anyone's, but spare my child"

Not giving her a second glance and running short of time, the Dark Lord sent a killing curse in her direction almost lazily as he turned towards his actual goal. At this point, fat tears had begun seeping down the babies' cheeks as he gazed at his mothers' eyes, devoid of their normal sparkle. He knew she would never rise again.

Lowering his wand, the Dark Lord laughed; the prophecy that he had mulled over for months was finally at its', admittedly undramatic, end. Unwilling to leave any chance of the divination not finding its' end today, the Dark Lord levelled his wand and sent out the spell that had never failed him to date. The only unstoppable and irreversible spell known to man. The brilliant green light flew towards the boy.


	2. Chapter 1: Discovery

Disclaimer: Just a moment, ... ... you mean to say that with a few displaced electrons, that is to say characters - _displaced characters_ now there's an idea - anyway... this world is mine to RULE? Muah ha ha, in that case:

Any and all similarities to other real or fictional characters are all figments of your imagination. If you want to indulge in your fantasy, you are hereby redirected to boredom as represented by my brother in the prelude.

Real authors note: If my brother and his puerile disregard for matters serious in nature gets me thrown off the site or dragged to court, it's all your fault! On a side note, the chapters _will_ get longer.

 **Harry Potter: Son of the Sky**

 **Ch. 1: Discovery**

It had been one of those nights again. Harry rose slowly from his sweat-drenched bed and put on his glasses. He was restless after lying still for hours and having learnt that exercise tended to give him peace of mind, he got up to do just that. He promptly got changed into cloths far too big for his relatively thin, yet muscular, body, before quietly picking up a paperclip. Harry got to work on the lock and happily noted that it only took a few minutes now before he heard the small click indicating success. Opening the door of the cupboard under the stairs that he was currently using as bedroom, he crept out of the house.

As he stood outside, gazing up at the cool night sky, Harry felt instantly refreshed: the casual breeze bringing new life and vigour to his once-stale limbs. He stood still at the porch for a moment, greedily taking in the beauty of the stars above before the ADHD took over again and he started at a strong jogging pace along the road.

As he was running, Harry felt his mind inevitably drift to what he had just dreamt about. The dream just kept on returning, yet he was no closer to understanding it than he had been on his first night. Every night he would see the man in black robes breaking into the house and killing the inhabitants. and every night it would abruptly end just as the man sent the green light in the direction of the small child in the crib. It clearly wasn't a memory as it was always seen from the mans' perspective and Harry highly doubted the idea of reincarnation. Just explaining it away as a dream also seemed wrong as, if it were a dream, why did he experience it so vividly? Why could he remember it so well even hours later and why did it keep on returning?

If, as the dream seemed to suggest, magic did exist, could it perhaps have been sent to him by another through magic? But, if so, why? Or perhaps he was some kind of seer and the dream was foretelling what would happen rather than what had happened? If magic really was real, then it presumably existed in a secret society hidden from the world, otherwise he would likely have heard of it. Magic would also explain the strange things that had happened to him when growing up: how, when he became extremely agitated, things happened. Strange and inexplicable things. Did the Dursleys' know about magic, that he was magical? They clearly knew that there was something different about him, though they had a different word for it; freak. Their refusal to even allow Dudley the privilege of using the word magic was also strange.

The fact that magic was not well established within the _normal_ society suggested that not everyone did magical things in the way that he did, perhaps anyone could be taught but only some people could use it naturally? Then again, he had found that all his conscious attempts at using magic had failed, perhaps there were different types of magic and he was using some form of emotional magic? If that was the case, his magic seemed rather useless as he couldn't control it, he could simply react and hope for the best. He remembered back to when he was but five and Dudley was punching him. He just wanted the pain to stop and, all of a sudden, the boy was thrown of him and hit the other side of the room; hard. Dudley was sent to the hospital for the better part of a week and after that Harry was left alone. That was the incident that had been the spark that set fire to the Dursley's hate for him, but it had also introduced a certain quality of fear into their lives. They dared not physically hurt him, but he was constantly the object of verbal abuse and the least of mistakes would be punished by the removal of food. Harry could still vividly remember Vernon's face that day, beet-root red and drawn, with eyes glinting dangerously: as though he wanted to kill.

Were the Dursleys justified in calling him a freak? What good had his power brought him that outweighed the bad, especially when considering the impact it had on others? Magic seemed rather selfish and stupid on its own. If he didn't learn to control it, what the Dursleys said was probably true and it made him a monster. A danger to himself and others. Was it even possible to control, or would it ever remain chaotic and independent from his reason?

Harry returned to the house just as the first rays of dawn had started to sweep across the quiet houses of private drive and he quietly snuck back into his cupboard, locking the door behind him. Now he had only to wait until the Dursleys' awoke and so, eager to distract his mind, he took out a book he had borrowed from the library and began to read. He just managed to concentrate on his book for 6 minutes before his mind was distracted. Thus this morning turned out almost exactly like so many others before it, but if Harry believed this would remain a normal day, he would soon be proven utterly wrong.

The Dursleys' awoke shortly after Harry's return, and after forcing him to do the dishes, the laundry and trim the garden they allowed him a precious few hours of freedom - it was a Saturday after all.

Eager to be out of the house Harry headed off towards the library in the hopes of finding some new exiting book to read as he had just finished The Hobbit. He wanted to build up the will to resist the urgings of his ADHD, and books were a good way of accomplishing this. He also hoped that will might be useful in learning to control his magic– but he was having little success in that approach. He had managed to increase his attention span quite significantly, but he still had a **lot** of distance yet to cover before catching up to what was normal for children at his age.

He had just cut across the forest when he heard a high-pitched scream of agony. Harry began to run headed towards where he thought it came from, traversing through the uneven ground and over the jagged roots with practised ease. Had he been thinking clearly, he would probably have considered himself rather idiotic for not seeking adult help, but he wasn't. When he heard the scream, he heard an undeniable plea for help that blocked out any and all distractions as adrenaline flooded his brain.

The screams stopped upon Harry's reaching of a small clearing where saw a young girl weeping silently. She had long brown hair and brilliant blue eyes, she couldn't have been older than eight. Rushing up to her Harry tried to see what was wrong with her and immediately spotted two things; a large bronze sword hanging limply in her hand and a well of blood seeping out from beneath the sock on her right leg. Harry, about to rush forward and help her, suddenly noticed her shaking finger pointing to something just behind him.

As he turned around to look behind himself, something big and heavy slammed into him and, when the world stopped spinning, he looked up to see the gigantic head of a ... dog? His chest felt rather stiff and upon looking down he saw, with surprise, that it's claws had dug deep into his chest, then the pain hit him.

Fighting back the scream that was clawing its way back up his throat and desperately attempting to push the paws away with all his might, Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye how the hound's head was approaching at an alarming rate. Time seemed to slow as the dog attempted to bite Harry's head off and yet he somehow managed to wrench his head away from its gaping maw, painfully twisting the claws deeper inside him in the process. Out of the corner of his eye he saw how the girl took a firm grip up her sword and charged the beast, he wanted to scream for her to run but all that came out was a gurgle as blood filled out of his mouth.

The beast had apparently noticed her approach as it suddenly leapt off Harry, drawing a painful gasp from him, straight towards her. It lashed out at her with its front paw, yet she somehow managed to bring the sword up in time to block the blow but it went flying out of her hands. The hound advanced towards her with the air of a predator approaching cornered prey, and Harry knew she wouldn't survive another attack - that much was fairly self-evident.

Though he had only just met the girl - if indeed this counted as a meeting - Harry felt some form of mutual respect and loyalty between them as they fought together against this common foe. He refused to sit back and watch as she was about to die. Also, the girls scream for help was still resounding in the back of his mind, egging him on to help her in any way he could. He somehow felt as though he were willing to die for this girl. Pausing for a moment, he attempted to place this feeling as it felt somehow out of place; as though he were missing some crucial piece of information. Then the girl shouted for help once more and all conscious thought was scattered from his mind as helping her became the sole thought left in his disoriented mind.

He desperately wanted to help her, and he suddenly felt himself standing up and thrusting out an arm out angrily towards the heavens, acting instinctively rather than consciously. He could feel the sky; the wind currents, the clouds, the raw power. He reached out mentally with desperation, demanding and directing, and the heavens responded. He could feel incredible power surging through him, almost threatening to consume him in its incredible vastness and strength. Head pounding furiously he directed all of it towards the beast and light flooded his vision. He poured every last drop of power out of himself before feeling relief as the last of the power flowed out of him and collapsing as his legs gave in to the weight of his body.

* * *

Drowning.

Death.

Fear.

Running.

Wings.

Red.

Blood.

Pain.

Death.

Fire.

Pain.

Death.


	3. Chapter 2: Revelations

Disclaimer: I own little. My ideas in terms of combining the two fictional worlds and what outcomes they have are my own but the original worlds themselves are intellectual property of their respective owners.

Authors note: Apologies for the long delay. Likely I will be unable to write new chapters without a few months delay but, on the plus side, they are expected to be around 5000 words each in length. On that note, enjoy!

 **Harry Potter: Son of the Sky**

 **Ch. 2: Revelations**

As he came to his senses, Harry found himself propped up against a tree. Looking around, he found no sign of neither dog nor girl and, to his surprise, the deep gashes in his chest that he had sustained during the fight had been reduced to light scars. Harry had previously discovered that he did indeed heal much faster than the average person, but the wounds he remembered were deep enough that they would have taken at least a week to heal completely even considering his supernatural regeneration. Beside him lay the girls' scabbard, the swords' handle sticking out on one end, with a small piece of folded paper placed on top of it. Curiously picking up the parchment he found a short note enclosed within. The letter appeared to be written in some unknown language, yet he found that his brain was able to understand every word. Magic? By now any doubts regarding the existence of magic had left his mind, after all, it was difficult not to believe when one had just summoned a huge bolt of lightning out of one's hands. Focussing at the task a hand, Harry began to read the letter.

 _..._

 _Thank you for saving my life, I hope that the next time we meet it will be under better circumstances. I realise that you must have many questions, but I have little time. Please accept my sword as a gift, given in gratitude for the great favour you did here today. Keep it on you at **all** times, they will be looking for you now and it is the best chance you have of surviving. The blade is made of celestial bronze which disintegrates most any monster that it impales. It will never need to be sharpened or cleaned, its blade is ever true and will always remain as deadly as the day it was made. May it serve you well as it has served me._

 _..._

Until we meet again.

Looking up from the letter, Harry's gaze fixated on the sword. The handle was mostly bronze, but with an intricate silver pattern leaking through. The boy picked up the sword and was immediately struck by how light it was. Almost reverently, he slowly drew the sword from its' scabbard, and watched in awe as the blade came free of its bindings.

Compared to the handle, it was relatively simple with no carvings or patterns, yet this did nothing to diminish its terrifying beauty. Its form held no perceivable imperfections and it seemed to instil a feeling of dread and awe in Harry, alike to how one might feel in the presence of a storm at sea or a vast tornado. The sword was much too big for him, indeed it was about as tall as he was, but grasping it firmly in his hands, he felt powerful, somewhat reminding him of when he had summoned the bolt of lightning. Eager to test it, he thrust the sword against a tree, and found that the blade penetrated easily through the bark and wood. His intention had not been to fell the tree, indeed, he had only expected the sword to make a small cut, and when he pulled the sword out again he found that the tree, being rather young and small, was wobbling uncertainly in the wind; swaying dangerously from side to side.

Harry turned towards home when he suddenly heard a screeching sound from above and turned to see a bird dive bombing right at him. Battle instincts took control as he put his back against the tree such that he needn't worry about attacks from behind, causing it to sway dangerously in the process. He held his sword high and felt his muscles tense as he prepared to jump into action. The bird, wary of the sword, changed direction just as it was about to be skewered and vanished up amongst the treetops.

A few seconds passed and the boy was just about to lower his guard when the bird broke through the leaves of a tree just a few meters away, and Harry, having no time to react, was thrown to the ground as the bird smashed hard into his side. He was dazed and the arm holding the sword was bleeding heavily. By the time he had recovered enough to look up, the bird was gone. Ignoring the stinging pain in his side, Harry took a moment to gather his thoughts. The bird was clearly at an advantage in the forest as it could keep out of sight until a moment before it struck, allowing no time for Harry to respond, then vanish above the treetops again; its eyes far more capable than his in penetrating the vegetation. There was no area clear of trees for quite some distance and Harry feared he wouldn't make it out of the forest alive if he tried to run, so what could he do?

He immediately saw two possible courses of action; he could find some way of obscuring the birds vision, or he could pretend to be dead and hope that the bird would either come within reach of his blade or would leave him alone. Both options had risks involved: Harry had no way of knowing how much time he had before his next encounter with the bird and he might not have time to find cover, and there was also no way of knowing if the bird would believe him dead or if his lack of movement would allow it to aim for his neck next resulting in his immediate demise.

Silently praying to whatever God that might be out there, Harry looked briefly around him before deciding to sprint towards a group of three trees, tightly packed such that the bird would have difficulty getting through, incidentally this was in the same direction as the tree he had cut with his sword. Just as he moved his head from where it had rested on the ground, the bird came to sight and its claws came down hard where his neck had been only a moment before.

The bird was disoriented as a result of hitting the ground and Harry had just enough time to whip around and slash frantically with his sword, effortlessly severing tendon and muscles and instantly killing the bird. He looked upon the carcass of the beast with a tinge of regret, why had it attacked him? It was a relatively small bird, measuring about a meter in wingspan but with a long tail ideal for changing direction at high speed – as it had demonstrated recently. Harry looked into its' blood-red eyes, devoid of their normal sparkle, and couldn't help but feel guilt. He had killed it.

Why had it attacked seemingly without cause? He looked down to the sword held in his hand and felt almost betrayed. It held no stain after having cut the bird, indeed, there was no mark at all to indicate its' involvement in the murder: Its clean blade just glowed with perceived innocence in the sunlight.

He was distracted from his thoughts by a small chirping sound from behind. Gazing up at the tree he had used to test the blade, he spotted a small baby bird, its' grey colour and long tale immediately marking it as being of the same species as the adult that lay dead on the ground.

Understanding hit Harry and he fell to his knees in despair as he realised that the bird he had killed was merely a parent trying to protect its' young from his own careless actions. Now that its' parent was gone, the baby would likely be unable to survive the harsh wilderness as it would have no one to protect it and to teach it during its' most vulnerable years. Looking upon the dead corpse of the bird, Harry vowed to take the bird in and to take care of it as compensation for his role in the death of its guardian.

Unwilling to let the body be consumed by the wild beasts of the forest, Harry began to dig a grave, his bare hands protesting painfully as he forced them into the ground again and again. It was a slow and agonising process, but Harry embraced the difficulty, accepting it almost as punishment for his actions. By the time the grave finally was dug, Harry's fingers were covered in dried blood and dirt, with sweat running freely down his brow. He picked up a large piece of bark and pushed it hard into the ground, acting as a pseudo gravestone.

Walking over to the tree he had previously damaged, he climbed up on a low branch, and peered over the edges of the nest. There, staring up at him with eyes that betrayed only a hint of fear, was a baby bird. It measured no more than ten centimetres from head to toe and had an almost white chest in contrast to its grey wings and black scalp. Its eyes were a brilliant yellow, shining innocently as the bird peeked up curiously at the intruder.

Harry took off his sweater and used it to cover most of the sword and scabbard before gently picking up the small bird and beginning the long trudge home, all the while wondering whether or not the Dursleys were justified in calling him a freak; a monster.

* * *

The next few months passed in a blur for Harry as he busied himself with practising his newfound powers, caring for the bird – whom he had named Ánemos – and keeping him out of sight from the Dursleys. He had reconsidered his place in the world after the experience with the girl and the monstrous dog, and now he had no doubt left now regarding the existence of a magical society.

There were several reasons he decided to master his power; he suspected that an extreme emotional reaction was likely to trigger a magical one and hoped that learning to control it might allow him to temper and to direct this such that it was to his benefit. In addition he hoped that in utilising his powers, he might increase the chances of his being integrated into the magical society or even might solidify his place within the society should he become part of it. The fact that it was absolutely breath-taking didn't hurt.

Harry stood alone in the clearing, eyes closed and hands reaching out; sensing. He found no disturbance, yet the currents were chaotic and hard to keep track of, and Ánemos had become an expert on sneaking through his line of 'sight'. He began slowly twirling one of his hands and smiled as the currents within some 20 meters duplicated this effect. His defences were set.

He could feel Ánemos circling just beyond his reach from the small currents created by the wings, but the bird did not enter. Harry could not hear the cries resounding in the heavens nor could he see the birds scattering, yet he immediately felt Ánemos' fear and when the bird entered his field he knew this was not part of their training exercises. Opening his eyes he saw Ánemos, and also the larger bird of prey at its tail. He felt for the currents and found that the birds were too far away for him to be able to send one accurate and powerful enough to divide the birds. Sighing, he reached for his other, deadlier, power. Holding out his hands to the sky he concentrated. For a moment there was an explosion of light and heat, then a bird fell from the sky, coming to rest on the ground; stone dead.

Ánemos landed on his shoulders a little while later and they both stared at the lifeless corpse for a while; contemplating. This was the third time he had reverted to using this particular power on another, and each time it had struck true. Each time it had hit its mark and left a corpse in its wake. Yet Harry took comfort in the fact that each time had been for the purpose of protecting, not killing. There were many dangers in the wild for a young bird and Harry feared he might one day be too late to act upon his vow or be erroneous in his power and have to face Ánemos corpse instead of that of a wild bird. This was why they were so cautious, only leaving the safety of the town on cloudy, stormy days when his powers would be the easiest to summon.

* * *

Harry spent much of his time outdoors with Ánemos and so was surprised one day to find the Dursleys' packing as he arrived at the house. Offered no explanation he was shoved into the car and ordered under no circumstances enter the house as they continued packing. As minutes passed Harry could not help but become more and more curious as to what had happened and what it was within the house that he was not allowed to see. The Dursleys had yet to show from the house and so Harry decided that it was worth the risk to sneak a peak.

Quickly getting out of the car, he snuck up such that he was standing just under the window to the living room and he waited listening. Hearing no sound from the other side he dared a look into the living room and saw… letters. The floor and furniture were covered in them, each seeming a replica of each other as they all had the same size and the same golden script on the front. Straining his eyes he could just make out Harry James Potter on the front. The letters were addressed to him!

Curiosity got the better of him and he pushed open the window and was just about to jump through and grab one when he heard voices coming from the stairs. He frantically ran back to the car, getting in and closing the door behind him just as the Dursleys came out, Vernon looked at him suspiciously but said nothing. They began loading trunks onto the back just as Harry got an idea, but he would need a distraction. Concentrating, he sent a huge gust of wind to blow off Vernon's hat at the same time as another blew through the window Harry had opened. A quick glance behind him confirmed that the Dursleys had yet to notice the three letters that had blown onto the garden as they were preoccupied with retrieving the hat.

Slowly Harry began the excruciating process of guiding one of the letters to the car until it was just by the door, this was an extremely slow and tedious journey as the amount of control to do it properly was still beyond him and so he was forced to send strong gusts of wind at it pointing in his direction such that it spiralled towards him, slowly edging its way towards him. This itself was only possible as the letter was not on flat ground but rather was being held up by long straws of grass, meaning that there was plenty of empty space below the letter that the wind could enter and then push on the letter from below. Glancing quickly about him to ensure the Dursley's were still occupied, he opened his car door and picked up the letter. No time to spare, he pressed it in between the seats just as the Dursleys returned to the car.

* * *

After a long drive the car came to a stop close to the sea and Harry was then dragged out of the car before he had time to retrieve the envelope. It was a despairing boy who got onto the boat at last, all the while wondering who had sent the letters, and why? Had he lost an opportunity he would never regain? They reached a small island, and after heaving all the luggage into the house – none of which belonged to him – Harry went outside as he felt Ánemos arriving. Looking up he saw the bird flying along and in her beak… was a letter! She landed looking pleased with herself as she put the letter in front of the boy, who was starring at it with shock, mouth hanging open.

Treating his bird with some precious salted meat he had saved from a school dinner, Harry took the letter with shaking hands and ripped it open, finding the following enclosed within:

…

…

…

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

…

…

…

Harry stared dumbfounded at the letter, disbelieving. All his training over the passed few months had been geared for the purpose of discovering/being discovered by these very people, but he had never truly believed that it would actually happen. Could it be that this would be his one-way ticket away from the Dursleys'? "We await your _owl_ " … What did that mean? Presumably that an owl was something different to the magical world, perhaps it stood for something like "Only-written letter", or could it be that they actually used owls? No that idea was just too outlandish, owls seemed a most inefficient system that would probably not only be slow and unreliable ( _Deliver letter. Deliver letter. Del – look! A rabbit! Hunt. Hunt. Hunt_ ) but would also require constant care. Not to mention the added work in cleaning, housing and feeding. Then again, there was magic to consider, a factor that he could not take into account without more information.

Regardless of whether it was actual owls or something else, he knew he would be unable to reply as he had no idea where to send the letter to. A week ago Harry might have despaired over this, but now he was filled with a feeling of accomplishment that drowned out any such feelings. Rather he viewed it optimistically and noted that he would have weeks to figure it out.

As such it was a joyous Harry that went to bed that night. He fantasised about dragons and great heroes, dreams of grandeur filling his mind to the extent that the fact that it was his birthday was all but forgotten – not that it had ever been a day of great importance to him considering his treatment with the Dursleys'. Indeed, the only reason he remembered to think of it anymore was the half pound note and the temporary relief it would provide as he would not be required to do chores that day.

As he lay thinking, he felt something approaching the house. Something big. It had become a common practice for him to constantly be aware of the currents closest to him in his training, and now hours of hard practice honing his concentration was paying off. Under normal circumstances it was almost impossible for him to sense anything unless he spent hours focussing, but as the thing approached he could feel the air currents begin moving chaotically, darting quickly this way and that, prone to change direction randomly. They seemed almost agitated at the approach of the creature. At the same time, Harry also heard Ánemos, who was currently perched at the top of the building, giving off his own warning signal. Immediately dispersing any remnants of sleep, Harry grabbed his sword (which he had smuggled with him and stored beneath a loose floorboard by his bed) and quickly moved towards the door, careful not to stir any of the Dursleys in his wake.

The creature, whatever it might be, was moving in a direct path towards the front door of the house and so Harry, unwilling to give away the advantage of surprise, climbed out through a window to the side of the house before peaking out from a bush that he hid himself in to view the beast. There, easily reaching twice the height of any man and at least three times the height of Harry was the beast. It was of a humanoid shape but with disproportionately large hands and fingers that reminded more of claws with nails reaching far beyond the fingertips. The creature was naked besides a loincloth and carried with him a crude but gigantic club that would no doubt easily reduce the house to rubble should it be brought to bear. As Harry dared to turn his gaze up to seek the face of the giant he found the distinguishing feature of this monster as a single eye decorated the face, positioned right above the nose, staring down at the house with malice.

As he looked at the sheer size of this monstrosity, Harry's sword suddenly seemed a pitiful thing indeed in his untrained hands and it took all his willpower not to flee then and there. The creature stopped for a moment and seemed to sniff the air before turning directly to face Harry where he knelt on the side of the house. Realising his peril, Harry began to run as he tried to formulate a strategy for facing this fiend; he remembered what it had said in the note about how the blade would disintegrate any monster if only he could get a strike in, but how was he supposed to manage that? It would take him getting close to the giant without it smashing him to a pulp, a feat he did not know how to accomplish. He nimbly jumped aside as the club smashed into the ground beside him and realised he had a more immediate problem, the giant had crossed the field and caught up to him in mere seconds, taking great advantage of his far superior muscles and long legs. Turning to face the giant, Harry managed to narrowly duck as a foot came flying and was surprised at his own nimbleness as he rolled to the side when the foot reversed and stomped down. Not giving Harry a moment to rest, the next few seconds were all jumping, ducking and rolling. Most people would have been overwhelmed at this point, but Harry was not most people and even as he desperately avoided the attacks which would easily crush him, he was developing a strategy to fight the beast. As the next foot came in he sidestepped and brought down his sword. Hard.

The sword easily cut bone and skin, slipping in and doing great damage. As he giant was off balance Harry then called in a bolt of lightning from the gathering clouds to strike it, immediately followed by another. The giant swerved at the first and fell to the ground at the second, but as Harry ran in for the kill the giant managed a kick with his foot. It was far weaker than those preceding it, but it connected and Harry was sent flying to thud into a tree and fall to the ground, clearly bruised and likely with more than a few bones broken. One of his legs had hit a sharp stone on the ground and pain echoed through his body as he tried to crawl away. The giant had gotten to his feet and was approaching.

It may have been the end for Harry then, had not Ánemos swept in from above, fearlessly assaulting the giant with claw and beak, targeting the eyes and thus forcing it to shift its attention from Harry to the bird. Whilst the bird seamlessly flew between the giants' clumsy attacks, it was unable to do any damage to the giant and it was clear that it would tire long before the giant did. Even now, Harry could see it growing more and more desperate, putting itself in ever increasing levels of danger as it circled around the giant and tried to strike at any vulnerability, yet it was hopeless as again and again the claws failed to penetrate the thick skin of the giant and the bird was unable to accurately target the eyes while manoeuvring past the flailing arms.

The giant, annoyed at the little insect circling around its head, growled before taking in a massive breath and blowing at the bird, hard. Harry could only watch in terror as the bird tried futilely to avoid the wide attack before being hit full on, the wind disorienting the bird enough for the giant to get off an, admittedly glancing, blow at the bird with his massive club. Ánemos dropped to the ground even as its one remaining functional wind desperately flapped to keep it in the air and the giant turned to regard Harry, grinning like a madman.

The monstrous figure began to approach, his grin widening revealing a horrendous set of rotting teeth through which a gigantic deformed tongue emerged to lick cracked lips. Was this how he was to die? He had worked so hard to improve himself, yet he had failed, betrayed both himself and Ánemos. In this moment of self-reflection Harry couldn't help but wonder if fate might have looked differently had he tried harder. Had he worked harder to improve and control his power, could things have turned out differently? Maybe this was a test, to see if he was good enough to enter Hogwarts, and he had blown it. He had failed and there would be no second attempt as this failure would cost him his life.

Harry's eyes began to shut as he succumbed to the pain in his body, when a cry pierced through the howling wind. It was Ánemos crying out in agony and fear for its master. This jolted Harry out of his despair and the look on his face soon turned to grim determination. Muscles protesting all the way he slowly lifted his hand from his side to the sky and let all his remaining energy go into forming one last bolt of lightning and directing it to the enemy. The sky lit up for a moment and then went dark again. The one-eyed monster was still standing and appeared untouched by the bolt that had hit it, Harry simply wasn't strong enough. All of his energy had gone into the two bolts he had fired previously and now he was empty, powerless. He would need time to recover before he could use it again. Harry fell into unconsciousness knowing he had failed.

* * *

An expression of surprise suddenly appeared on the face of the beast and its approach turned to a halting stumble before it collapsed altogether, narrowly avoiding crushing Harry and revealing a massive crossbow bolt sticking out perfectly from the middle of its head.

A figure resembling man stood some distance off, easily hefting a massive crossbow in one hand and inwardly cursing himself for not coming sooner. Rushing off to the boy's side, he carefully lifted him off the ground and began walking over to his boat at the edge of the island.

* * *

Where was he? He was in a cage. Everything was red except to black bars that kept him confined. Who was he? He couldn't remember. All of a sudden, the scene changed. He was in a great hall, with a massive throne right in front of him. He tried to look upon the figure sitting on the throne but only perceived darkness. The shape looked somewhat humanoid, but it was difficult to tell with some kind of inky dark liquid seeming to envelop him, flowing over his body in an irregular, chaotic fashion. Then the figure on the throne spoke, and his voice felt muddled and surreal. It seemed that there was a chorus of voices speaking all at once, saying the same thing but disordered, each following his/her own speed and fashion. The words uttered were simple, but the thing seemed to pause randomly and spoke so very slowly that it seemed several minutes passed by the time it had finished speaking. It took some time for the man to decipher this speech but in the end, he understood the meaning. The thing was offering him a deal.


	4. Chapter 3: Magic

Disclaimer: To own or not to own, **that** is the question…

Authors note: Again, sorry for the (very) late chapter. I am not sure how much detail to go into with these initial stages… Should I glance over events such as the choosing of wands and buying school items such that the story progresses faster, or would that degrade the story? Please leave your opinion with a review.

 **Harry Potter: Son of the Sky**

 **Ch.3: Magic**

Harry awoke feeling strangely pain free considering what he had just been through, but his memory felt a bit fuzzy and he couldn't seem to place what had happened before he went to sleep. He was lying on a white bed in what he presumed to be a hospital (the sheer whiteness of it all being a dead giveaway, not to mention the layout of the room itself with empty beds neatly arranged in a row to one side and shelves to the other containing vials of mediciny-looking stuff). Looking around there were a few oddities he noticed; where the room at first glance had seemed exceedingly normal, upon closer inspection it became clear that it was anything but. Firstly, the pictures – beautiful depictions of animals playing around in the sunshine with people flying around on broomsticks in the sky - were moving, running around the room and soaring through the clouds. The room felt alive and although Harry was the only person present in it, he felt as though he were surrounded by a group of friends. The air itself seemed welcoming and he felt a strange urge to go back to sleep. It was difficult but he managed to overcome this and stood up. There was a sense of … wrongness in the air, as though some presence was intertwined with it and was forcing it away from its natural flow. Harry tried to 'push' some of it away from him, but it resisted and when he forced it, he felt it fighting back. For a moment it threatened to overtake him, but as it stayed away, Harry felt his head becoming clearer and it became easier and easier to resist the pressure of the air.

This 'wrongness' in the air, could it be a spell? Fascinated, Harry attempted to force it into a corner and found that the more he manipulated it and displaced it from its original position, the more difficult it was to keep it there. In the end he found that he could move it such that two-thirds of the room was free from it, and now some fog could clearly be seen in the remaining third of the room.

Just as he had accomplished this, the door at one end of the room opened and the fog (and with it the pressure on his mind) immediately vanished. Striding into the room was an elderly woman who momentarily had a surprised expression as she looked at Harry before she controlled her expression.

"Hello Harry, I am professor McGonagall and you are in the East Wing of the medical centre at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Now, I am sure you have many questions, but they will have to wait. Please follow me." – She spoke with a strong voice that commanded authority and, once done, promptly turned around and walked out of the room with purposeful strides.

Harry, seeing little choice in the matter, followed her out of the room. They walked through several doors that opened and closed by themselves before finally reaching a large hall with a small gathering of children and a few adults. Professor McGonagall directed Harry to the other children before walking up to a small podium and began speaking, her words echoing through the room.

"Students, the people you see around you are your fellow classmates and teachers for the following year during which you will be attending Hogwarts. I understand that some of you have not been fully briefed yet as to your current situation. Suffice to say, magic is real and the world we are living in is much more dangerous than you could ever have imagined. You are all witches and wizards, all possessing magical blood that allows you to accomplish great deeds far outreaching your wildest dreams. But this blood attracts monsters, who would like nothing more than to feast on your flesh. You are not safe out there, beyond the borders of our magical society and so we, the teachers, have a duty to teach you such that you might handle yourselves. You are all what our society would classify as muggleborns – children who have grown up without magical parentage. There will be rules here, rules restricting your movements and limiting the time you can spend with your guardians, but please understand that these rules are in place for the mutual safety of yourselves and your respective loved ones. You will all be living here on the castle grounds for the time being. Now, I will assign you all teachers who will help you buy the materials you will need to complete your year in school, please step forward as I call out your name and go with the teacher I assign you."

It was a lot to process and looking around Harry saw quite a few people who were close to breaking into tears at the news, but he found it difficult to sympathise. Indeed, he felt rather happy that he would be avoiding his aunt and uncle for the time being. The part about the monsters? It seemed like a dream come true. He still couldn't remember much about what had happened before he awoke here but one thing that did stick was the exhilaration he had felt during his battle, he had felt alive. The prospect of learning magic and fighting monsters was very appealing.

"Hermione, Harry Potter and Anthony Goldstein, please go with professor Snape."

Harry stepped up together with a girl with long brown hair and a boy with sharp eyes and short black hair. They were directed to a man with long, black hair and brooding eyes. His face turned into a sneer as he looked Harry directly into the eye before swooping his cloak and leading the way out of the hall without so much as a whisper. The man looked so intimidating that Harry suppressed the questions that were bubbling up in his throat and followed the man silently, his peers doing the same. They were led deeper into the structure, coming to a halt at a cupboard from which Snape produced a small silver candle holder.

"Hold onto this" Snape said as he held out the candle holder and the moment all three students touched the candle holder, they were gone. It was only for a moment, but Harry experienced it as though it were an eternity. He felt as though he were being forced through a tube much too thin to actually fit him and his atoms seemed to be pulled in every direction all at once. The process itself was painless but it was extremely uncomfortable and the moment the three children found were out of it they collapsed to the ground and were breathing heavily as though they had just come out of hard exercise. Not giving them any time to catch their breath, Snape forged on into a mass of people with the children forced to half run to keep up with his uncompromising pace. Above there was a big clipboard on which it was written "Welcome to Diagon Alley" and all around there were shops with all sorts of interesting artefacts and magical items. The shops all seemed to have rather simple medieval designs, but the building Snape was moving towards was large and made completely of white marble, majestically looming over the alley. There were large pillars dwarfing everything in sight with "Gringotts, The Wizarding Bank" engraved in golden letters above the massive doors. To the right and left of the doors stood small, green-hued creatures the size of human children. Each wore an impressive set of medieval armour and hoisted a massive halberd showing off their immense strength. They were grim-faced creatures with long noses and skin that looked more akin to scales than anything else.

Snape, speaking only for the second time that day, said solemnly "Be wary of these creatures, they are called goblins and much bad blood exists between them and wizard-kind. Woe be to the wizard who breaks his vow against a goblin". Still, they let Harry and his classmates pass without interfering, allowing them to go into a huge hallway which elicited a gasp from Harry; the ceiling being at least ten meters high and there were several more guards positioned around the room. The walls were decorated in beautiful engravings and there were several hallways leading out of the chamber where goblins were running in and out. Towards the centre of the room there were a number of goblins sitting in high chairs such that even the tallest of men would have to look up to see the goblins eye to eye. They sat at desks and seemed hard at work as they wrote or passed on papers to the goblins running in from the hallways.

Snape led Harry and the others to one of the desks and simply waited. They stood there in silence for some time before the goblin finally looked up from his papers and peered down at them.

"And what, professor, brings you here today?"

"Oliver Rivers and Anthony Goldstein are here to set up Hogwarts support vaults and Harry Potter needs to access his family vault".

"Very well" said the goblin before whispering something to one of the goblins to his side who promptly ran off,

"And does Mr. Potter have his key?"

Snape took out a small key, passing it to the goblin for inspection.

"Follow me" the goblin finally said before taking off towards one of the doors leading out of the chamber. They were led through a number of corridors before finally reaching a part of the building that hadn't been covered in worked marble but was rather raw rock. They all got on a cart that was connected to a rail leading deeper into the cave. Then the goblin flipped a switch and they were sent hurtling into darkness.

After a long and trying journey the cart finally came to a stop next to a large metal door. The goblin proceeded to unlock the door and Snape, Hermione and Anthony left leaving Harry alone with his thoughts. Things had been progressing so fast over the past few hours that he hadn't had the time to fully process it all. Magic was real, and he was in the middle of the secret society he had been dreaming of ever since he discovered his powers, but some things led him to believe that his quixotic view of magic that had come from childhood storybooks was not quite in sync with reality. For example, while it was true that he was glad to be rid of the Dursleys, he admitted the possibility that he was being shut out from the world and taught propaganda from the magical society, but how much veracity there was to that claim remained to be seen. In truth, what worried Harry most was that as he seriously considered the magical society, he became suspicious as to why the world at large knew so little about it. There clearly were quite a few wizards and witches in the world as evident per his stroll through Diagon Alley, and magical creatures too. On his way to Gringotts he had spotted quite a few creatures that seemed… different, and what about monsters? How was it possible to keep all of it hidden from the world? The two most likely possibilities seemed to be centred around memory or sight manipulation, and both had potentially dire implications. If it was sight manipulation, could he trust anything that was happening around him? And memory manipulation was even worse, was he truly Harry Potter, a boy who had grown up with the Dursleys? It was entirely possible that the Dursleys had been added to his memories such that he would view the wizarding world as heroes and not as cruel villains who had taken him from his loving family. Were his thoughts being monitored even now? But he understood that there was little chance of him finding out anything more about it now, so there was little to do but play along whilst taking each teaching with a grain of salt. Not knowing the truth of the people who had taken him without permission, Harry decided that it would probably be best to hide his powers until further notice, such that if **they** , and he did not think this likely, were as yet unaware of the extent of the powers, he might have an ace up his arm.

At this point, the others returned, and they set off again. This time they stopped at a much fancier door and the goblin led Harry into the Potter vault. He was given a small pouch to store some money in and told by Snape to collect some gold and then be out again, at all speed. The goblin remained outside the vault.

Harry was in awe as he gazed upon the riches in the potter vault. There were heaps of gold, silver and copper in front of him gleaming under magical torches that lined the walls. He took his small pouch and began filling it, but as the money entered, it appeared to fall much further down into the pouch than he had expected, indeed, than what should be possible. Curious, he reached in with a hand and found that his arm went all the way in before reaching the bottom and finding the coin. Feeling around inside, he found that the space was more that of a small sack than a pouch. More than a little thrilled, Harry began filling the pouch and was also pleasantly surprised at how light it was despite the money inside.

As he was doing this, he felt a small breeze and looking up saw a door in the vault, above which it was written " **Potter Vault Artefacts** ". Interest immediately piqued, he closed the bag and, quickly glancing back to see the goblin staring idly at its toes, entered this second vault. Inside there were a number of items on pedestals scattered around the room, about 10 in all, as well as a door at the far side of the room. Harry was unwilling to reveal to Snape that he had been in the room, fearing that the man might confiscate any item he took, and so he quickly looked around and grabbed the smallest item he could find – a small ring with the inscription " _Éskhatos ekhthrós katargeítai hó Thánatos_ ", which Harry inherently understood as meaning " _The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death_ ". Hiding the ring amongst the gold in his sack, he exited the vault and went back to the cart, Snape gazing suspiciously at him but saying nothing.

Soon they were hurtling back towards Gringotts exit, their pockets quite literally filled with gold. Reaching the bank, Snape directed them to a small bench and muttered about something administrative he had to take care of before threatening them of dire consequences should they decide it were a good idea to wander of and promptly left their vicinity, leaving the three children alone for the first time. After a few moments of awkward silence Hermione was the first to open her mouth.

"Hi, my name is Hermione Granger, and your names are?" she asked.

"Harry Potter"

"Anthony Goldstein"

"So what house do you think you will be sorted into? Personally, I am hoping for Gryffindor, but all the houses are good, I suppose" Hermione continued.

"Houses?" Harry asked as both he and Anthony looked at Hermione in confusion

"Weren't you given 'Hogwarts: A History' to read? I suppose not. There were two wizards and two witches who banded together to create Hogwarts; Godrick Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar Slytherin. Therefore, there are four houses in Hogwarts, the houses of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin, named after the four great founders. All students are sorted into one of these four houses at the beginning of their schooling and remain in that house until the end of their seventh year."

"Well, how do you know which one to choose?"

"Well… Each house is supposed to represent people with different personalities or abilities. For Gryffindor, that's bravery. For Ravenclaw, wisdom or intelligence. For Hufflepuff its hard work and for Slytherin it's ambition. There is a sorting ceremony at the start of each year for new students such as us, I don't exactly know what it entails which makes it really difficult to prepare! Suppose that it's a magic test, that means we only have the few days between when we get our wands today and the ceremony. How are we supposed to be able to prepare? What if we fail and get thrown out? And"

"And we don't know." Anthony interrupted "Moreover we cannot know at this point what such a test would include, so there is little point to fretting about it. Even if we could know, judging from what the teacher who took me here told me, it can take weeks to master a single spell! I doubt they would give us an impossible task. What I am more concerned about is that they don't seem to have any intention of letting us contact our parents anytime soon. I don't even remember how I got here! One moment I was falling to sleep in my house and the next I was waking in a white hospital bed. I wasn't even given the opportunity to say goodbye to my parents before I was taken."

"I also found that strange" Harry replied "Though I wouldn't recommend voicing your complaints. We have no idea what magic is capable of and I wouldn't want to find myself on the wrong side of a memory altering spell, after all, a society willing to kidnap would surely not be above 'taking care of' your worries should they go out of hand. If they have already been willing to ignore the rights of your parents, they would likely have no qualms with overlooking ours. But, doesn't this conversation in itself seem strange to you? Admittedly this is the first time I have been kidnapped by an unknown organisation, but I wouldn't have expected to be so coldly rational about it as I have been"

"yes, could it be that even now we are under a spell?" Anthony replied

Harry was just about to continue theorising when Hermione interrupted.

"Boys, BOYS, stop! You are clearly overthinking things. Didn't Professor McGonagall herself give us a legitimate reason for taking us from our parents, did she not tell us that we weren't safe? That there are literally monsters in this world who want to eat us? And unlike the two of you, I actually did get the opportunity to say goodbye to my parents before I left. Professor McGonagall came and told them about magic before getting their permission to take me away. **Their Permission**. I don't know what you two are talking about, but I really do think that you're overthinking things. Perhaps you have forgotten saying goodbye to your parents, I remember reading that the memory can take some time to recover after having been under the calming charms of the magical hospital and since you, Anthony, say that you have already been there perhaps that's what causing you to forget. And these same calming charms might also be the reason you are so rational, as your emotions are being suppressed for the time being, preventing you from breaking down emotionally over your so-called-kidnapping. Your theories are just ridiculous."

Both Harry and Anthony opened their mouths to respond before simultaneously spotting the man standing right in front of them with his arms crossed. Professor Snape had returned. Thus, the shopping for school materials started, though the situation did not seem as tense as before and the three students dared to converse with each other, but they stayed well away from any potential conspiracy theories having silently agreed on a taboo on the topic in the presence of adults.

First on the list of supplies was books, but to the disappointment of the students, they never actually entered a bookstore but rather just collected the supplies in one bundle each from a warehouse. Next on the list was cloths, including a pair of expensive dragon-skin gloves, which, as the name implies, were covered in green dragon scales that had a dark and sinister glow to them. Then, finally, came the moment the three had been looking forward to most – the choosing of wands at Ollivanders'.

Snape led them up to the peculiar building that housed the finest wands of the wizarding world, but seemed conflicted as he reached for the handle.

He said "I'll leave you here, get your wands and then wait outside the shop until I return" before turning around and walking away with quickened steps.

Thus, Harry, Hermione and Anthony entered the shop. It was by far the most disorganised of the shops they had been to, with all sorts of magical relics arranged around the room, with a counter to the far side of the room and, behind it, a door. Though there was no one else present in the room, it was far from quiet as the constant ticking of various machines could be heard; there were at least three clocks that they could see, though none seemed to be measuring time. One looked like a timer but the units for it was years rather than minutes and it was counting down, though, as they looked it jumped a few years back in time before considering its journey. Above it were the ominously labelled words: "Time left until the end of the world". But this didn't worry the children who not only took note that it would be hundreds of years until this came to pass but also doubted its authenticity. This was, in part, due to the clock that sat to its right that was labelled "Stop Reading! Current number of people who managed to stop reading this before it reached its end" and was currently on 7. The third clock was written in another language and had several hands that seemed to be moving spontaneously rather than following any form or pattern.

Some other curiosities that caught the eye of the students were a statue of an older man that had been depicted at twice a normal humans height such that he was bowing his head to avoid hitting the room as he sat and snored on a chair that was much too small for his size and some mops that were autonomously cleaning the floor.

This was soon interrupted, however, when a man of short stature and uncombed hair entered the room. He looked at his customers in turn, his eyes focused and uncannily seeming to perceive more than just the physical. Indeed, as his

gaze floated over them the children felt transfixed by his gaze, and no one dared speak.

Finally the man was done and he relaxed back, the pressure in the room seeming to vanish instantly as he smiled brightly.

"I see that the time of year for Hogwarts has started anew, and not a moment too soon. Please do forgive an old man who has spent much too much time behind doors for asking, but you children wouldn't have happened to see a red moon in the sky of late, have you?" Asked the man.

The children exchanged a cautious glance before Hermione answered "No".

"Ah, good, good. Then another year has past without worry, but we must always be vigilant. Just make sure that you always have your wands at the ready at all times." The man said before turning to leave.

"Wait!" said Hermione quickly, "that's actually why we came, our wands, I mean. We came to buy them from you."

"Right, I almost forgot. Now let me see here… Who is going first?" said Ollivander

"I am" said Hermione after a short silence, and immediately a number of strange tools, including a tape measure, came flying from various places around them and hovered around Hermione taking a number of measurements.

"That one, no! What about… yes, I think this will work nicely… here" Ollivander handed a wand to Hermione "10 and ¾ inches, vine, dragon heartstring. Great for spells of all kinds…"

Hermione took the wand and felt a moment of elation. She felt powerful and, giving her wand a wave, a swarm of beautiful golden butterflies emerged, fluttering over her for a moment before vanishing.

Anthony Goldstein was next and received a "11 inch, Sycamore, Dragon Heartstring" which was stated to be especially good for "Transfiguration and tricky spells"

When it came to Harry, it took a long time before he found a suitable wand, but in the end he was given a "11 inch, holly, Phoenix feather", followed by an ominous statement by Ollivander that this wand had a brother wand, and its owner did "Great things, terrible but great", but Ollivander refused to name said individual.

They went out of the shop, wands safely tucked away in wand hoisters that they had been given by Ollivander which they kept at their hips. Seeing that Snape was not around, Anthony immediately saw an opportunity and said "Come on, let's go explore on our own, then perhaps we can discover what the wizards and witches are hiding!" all the while tugging on Hermione's shoulder who immovably stood her ground, crossing her arms.

"We haven't even started our classes yet and you're already trying to get expelled!"

"Weren't you the one defending the integrity of the wizarding world? If they truly are as magnanimous as you claim them to be, then we have nothing to fear and they certainly wouldn't punish us harshly over our first small offence. And if myself and Harry are right in that we are living in a cruel, brainwashing society, then this might be one of the few opportunities we have to find out the truth. After this we'll be confined to Hogwarts and by the time we're out of that place have no doubt we would have been completely indoctrinated, whether by spells or other means. We need to know now if we have something to fear, and perhaps find a book or two that Hogwarts doesn't know about giving us a necessary edge over them."

"Have you even considered the possibility that this is a test? They could be watching us right now to see how we might react."

"Finally you're getting into the right mindset about this. However, I still believe that we should go now. As I said, this could be our last chance. We will just have to take that risk."

"Just to be clear, I was suggesting that it was a test not because I had been corrupted by your extreme paranoia and conspiracy theories, but rather I hoped to convince you by taking a page from your book. You have not moved me, I stand by my original stance."

"Wait", said Harry "How about this? There is a bookstore just across the street We each could go in and grab a single book, buying it and leaving with all expediency, surely that would satisfy both stances? If the society is evil, we would at least have, hopefully, something that they would not expect. And as for your fear of getting caught, Hermione, we were in that shop for at least an hour, the probability that Snape would return before we do, if we are fast about buying our books is extremely low. And didn't you say you wanted to be in Gryffindor? The house of the brave? What better time to show your bravery than now?"

"Bravery is meant to be a virtue, to twist it into an argument for breaking the rules is beyond me. That is not the bravery a Gryffindor is meant to exemplify, a Gryffindor is meant to show bravery in the face of evil, bravery to do what is right"

"Exactly!" Anthony interrupted "Bravery to do what is right, and what is a more noble cause for us now than to seek the truth of our situation at the risk of potential consequences for ourselves? Truth that can lead us to understand if what we are doing is right or wrong? Truth to combat ignorance that could itself lead to unintentional wrongs, I will admit the possibility that you are right, but can you not do the same for us? Admit that we could be right? And if we are, you are weighing the consequences of getting caught, which likely are rather minor should we feign ignorance as this is our first offence, against potentially being brainwashed by an evil organization! Even if the chance that we are right is small, it is worth the risk."

"Fine, I realise that I will not be able to deter you from this cause. However, we must spend no more than two minutes in that shop, agreed?"

The two boys enthusiastically nodded and Hermione relented, letting them pull her to the shop. They ran into the shop and quickly split up, Hermione choosing to run for the history section, Anthony for combat magic and Harry for mind magic. Harry selected a book labelled "A Preliminary Introduction to Mind Magic; Spotting, Countering and Performing" figuring that anything else would be much to complex for him to understand at this stage. As he was rushing towards the counter, he spotted another book that caught his eye and quickly grabbed it as well. It was titled "All Known Forms of Magic", and he figured it might come in handy down the line. He was the first to reach the counter, and after having bought the books, taking care to hide his face from the shopkeeper (who could well be an enemy), who, fortunately, was rather inattentive as he was absorbed in a book he was reading. Hermione was the next to arrive, shortly followed by Anthony. After paying, they hid the books in Harry's money poach, whose elastic lip was able to expand enough to fit even Hermione's thick tome.

They ran towards the door and were just about to release the suspense that had been building in their chests, when the door opened and there stood Snape. Reacting immediately and playing on the fact that Snape was looking backwards as he entered, Harry led the way to the right, using the massive bookshelves as cover. Both he and Anthony thought little of the situation more than how to sneak past Snape and get outside, but Hermione wore a mask of terror, her heart beating furiously, so quickly and loudly that she was sure that, if nothing else, it alone would alert Snape to their presence.

"Do you think that Snape is here because he was tracking our location?" Anthony asked as they continued, albeit at a slower pace, further into the intricate maze of the library.

"Of course, how could we have been so stupid? Obviously the professor wouldn't leave us alone in the magical world without safeguards! This was a bad idea, when he catches us we'll be expelled for sure!" Hermione responded, whispering in a frantic tone.

"Hermione, don't give in to paranoia now of all times. We don't know anything for sure yet and there is little we can do to change things now. Lets just find a good place to observe Snape for now and we'll soon know the implications of his being here." Harry responded before leading the three to a stairway that led them to the first floor: a reading space within the library.

The library was fashioned in such a way that floors above the ground floor only occupied the edges of the room and so one could look down and observe the bottom floor, which is what the students did, lying down is a section of the floor where they would attract least attention and observing what occurred beneath.

They spotted Snape in the section of the bookstore labelled "Defence Against the Dark Arts", but he wasn't alone. Walking with him and greedily surveying the books was a child who looked as old as they with blond hair and a set of clearly tailored clothes. This largely calmed the children as they garnered that it was not for them that Snape had come and so there was still the chance that they could sneak out unnoticed whilst Snape was otherwise occupied, but as they were about to leave their post, an unspoken agreement having occurred between them, they noticed something that stayed their steps.

The blond boy had taken a small black book from the shelf, and as they watched, he took out his wand and waved it in the air; a big red eye appeared on its cover and turned to glare right at them, and they felt the unbridled malice of the gaze sweep over them. They were simply paralysed, unable to move as their vision changed and the world around them seemed to morph into devils and demons: screaming faces emerging from furniture and bookshelves collapsing into fiery imps. The roof broke off above them and the sky was red as blood, the moon staring down at them unblinkingly and echoes of death and destruction raining down on their ears. They felt a great presence approaching and reality itself seemed to tear apart as the being came closer. Closer. CLOSER! And then it was all gone. It left as quickly as it came and the students found themselves back in the library just in time to see the boy slip the book into his pocket, the world unchanged by the horrors they had just witnessed. Too terrified to speak words to one another, they sat, taking what little comfort they could in each other's presence, before slowly making their way towards the door, albeit with enough awareness to avoid their teacher and making a wide berth for the boy. They got out without problems and soon met up with Snape who took them back to Hogwarts, leading them to the dorms where they would spend the night. That eve none of the three could find much sleep, as every closed eyelid would be a portal back to the terror of the red world.

The guard walked his patrols as per regulations, though he saw little use to them. The prisoners were asleep after all. Always, eternally asleep. Sometimes they even got up and began hitting themselves against the bars. But they never woke. Still, walking through these halls always unnerved the guard, especially the last cell where **he** slept. All of a sudden, a prisoner started screaming, but the guard took no notice. After all, screams were often heard from the prisoners. He didn't hear the soft arcane words being muttered in the last cell. He didn't see the invisible messenger running through the walls with a singular purpose. He didn't understand that he was doomed as he sat back and re-joined the game of poker with his fellow guardsmen. That they were all doomed.


	5. Chapter 4: The Plot Thickens

Disclaimer: Work for money, study to learn and write for fun (and profit)!

Authors note: Finally another chapter has been completed, and allow me to offer my sincere thanks to all those people who reviewed. Enjoy!

Flyboy38: Not to worry, all is planned...

Ch.4 The Plot thickens

Outside the great castle a bird despaired as its frantic attempts to reach its master were thwarted time and time again. It felt fear from its master and redoubled its efforts, but the wards would not yield to its meek talons and lengthy cries. The bird flew at the barrier at full speed in a last-ditch attempt to break through. A cry of triumph and a whistling wind echoed through the night, followed shortly by despair as the bird met another obstacle in its path.

* * *

"I have failed once; I will not do so again. Reinforce the wards and keep the _demutatio_ out. We cannot allow any liabilities close to the boy when he is still so young and impressionable."

"With all due respect, do you not think that is a little harsh, Headmaster? We can remove the bird once it shows any signs of chaotic influences, it would not be difficult and what memory charms have done once, they can do again. While dangerous, the bird could prove a great ally in Harry's coming trials. Do not let paranoia take over."

"What you call paranoia I call experience, old friend. As I see things, we have to choose now and stick by that decision. The more time is wasted, the more intricate the web of deception becomes. The boy has already shown an inherent resistance to spells of the mind affecting type, as seen in the hospital, and as you well know, magic of the mind is intricate. For every thread we weave, the chance that it will all fall apart grows ever greater, and should the boy discover the truth, the simpler the dishonesty the easier it will be to explain. I value your advice, but in this matter my mind is made up."

"And if the boy remembers? The empathy link is still there, only suppressed. If you are so sure of this decision, why not reinforce that single thread by … terminating the bird? If you do not, it will remain a looming threat that will require monitoring. Need I remind you that we do not always have control over the boy's whereabouts?"

"That, I believe, is a needless evil. I can monitor both bird and boy well enough. Should the bird lose its battle, losing control over the chaotic magic that rises within it, I will have no choice but to do as you advice. However, I am unwilling to kill an innocent, and so I must wait. Indeed, should the bird win, I am not against allowing it to reunite with Harry. As you said, it could well prove a formidable ally, but I prefer the safe gamble with the bird first proving itself.

* * *

It was still a few days left until school began and the teachers had given the students time to 'explore the castle and get used to their new life', an opportunity that Harry, Hermione and Anthony chose not to squander. They had decided to keep the 'secret' books hidden until they found out more about how magic works and the school year had properly started, thereby keeping the teachers off their tails. That didn't mean they weren't practicing magic, however, as they poured over their school books. All eager to learn actual spells, they found a simple spell within the charms book that would, quite simply, levitate a small object.

The wand movement was minimal, consisting of a small movement upwards then downwards and the incantation was "Levitatus". After many failed attempts Hermione was the first to succeed, closely followed by Anthony, who's determination rose significantly upon seeing the success Hermione had. They waved their wands and small leaves rose slowly into the air. Harry found no such success, finding it difficult to concentrate at the task at hand, concentration being something that seemed to reverberate across all spells. He felt restless at the continuing lack of movement, and his attention would be drawn from the magic to small discomforts plaguing his position. The strong sense of magic he had felt when first grabbing the wand had disappeared and it felt like it had gone from majestic instrument of reality shaping to an unremarkable stick, dead in his hands.

Dismayed at his failure, he excused himself from the other two, who were eagerly practicing, and wandered the long corridors of the castle. Here was a great opportunity, but it seemed there was something just out of his reach that prevented him from casting spells. For Hermione and Anthony, it came so easily, but not for him. What was the difference between them? Was he not as dedicated or did he not work as hard? Or could it be that magic was more intuitive to them, that they were more attuned to its melody?

Pondering this for a while, Harry soon decided that perhaps it was best to try his hand at some other form of magic, and so he took out a book he thought interesting – defence against the dark arts – and began to read, flipping the pages until he came to his first spell; a spell that would send a wall of force outwards from the wand, expelling things in its path backwards. The wand movement was simply a thrust forward and the incantation was "Eicio". Interestingly enough, the spell did not require concentration, but rather 'will' was the target to meet. In order to successfully cast the spell, one needed to 'will' the magic out from the wand.

Having recovered from his previous failure, Harry left the castle and found a quiet spot near the forest where he could practice. Spotting a few pebbles, Harry thrust out his wand and exclaimed "Eicio", imagining a massive force pushing them backwards. Nothing happened. And so, the practice began with Harry attempting the spell over and over, each time changing his intonation, posture or thoughts, but each time reaching the same end result. The stones had yet to move. Every failure only increased his frustration and Harry soon found himself wondering if he really were cut out for the magic taught at the school.

That's when Harry noticed something approaching from the forest. Turning, he saw a black shape dragging across the ground and coming at him at high speed. He felt a sense of calm wash over him and time seemed to move slower as it approached. Considering the proximity to the forbidden forest, it seemed likely that the 'thing' approaching was a monster of some kind. Why did he leave his sword in his room? He could try to zap it with lightning, but that would almost certainly bring the attention of the teachers, as calling lightning was neither a silent nor invisible endeavour. Running seemed cowardly and that simply didn't seem to resonate well in his mind. No, running was definitely not an option. He needed a weapon… Looking down he realized he was holding a wand and mentally shrugged. It was worth a try.

Levelling his wand, he thrust it out and as the incantation came to his lips, he could feel the magic flowing through him and out through the wand. It was as though some great obstruction had come loose and the invisible wall of force went hurtling towards the cloak, the only evidence of its passing being a slight distortion in the air. It slammed into the black shape and forced it backwards, impacting a tree with an audible rip. Harry stared dumbfounded at what he had accomplished but looking closer he realised that the 'monster' was nothing more than a piece of cloth, a cloak that he had seen Anthony wearing to be more specific.

Just as he had realised this, Anthony and Hermione emerged from behind a stone, panting but looking rather pleased with themselves.

"That was amazing Harry! Though you could have gone a bit easier on my cloak"

"When we realised you had disappeared, we went out to look for you." Hermione said as she saw Harry's questioning look, "We were so caught up in our own success that we didn't realise your struggle. When we saw you practicing, Anthony suggested that perhaps some motivation would help and, well, here we are. We couldn't lift the cloak individually, but it seems that if we both cast the spell and direct it in coordination with each other, we can manage much more than our individual capabilities. Something to consider for the future to be sure."

* * *

After that the days went by quickly with Harry finding success in learning the charm to levitate an object now that he had experienced magic and understood what he was looking for. They also found that the spells they were learning, supposedly very simple ones, were extremely exhausting to cast and maintain. Further scrutiny of the books led Hermione to the answer that while they were shaping their magic into the spells, their forms were far from perfect leading to the spells taking significantly more energy than they should. Apparently, the only answer to that dilemma was practice and so, after the two spells they had already discovered, they set out to improve their spellcasting rather than learn anything new. This was a very tedious and time-consuming process as it required casting spells until exhaustion, waiting until recovery and then casting the spells again.

An additional factor to consider was that as yet their bodies were not attuned to magic which further reduced the time they could spend casting spells before needing to recuperate. As it stood, after a long day Hermione and Anthony were able to keep a small pebble hovering for about eight minutes before needing to rest and were able to cast "Eicio" three times. For Harry the time with the pebble was two minutes, in part due to his difficulty with the concentration aspect and in part due to his focus on the second spell which he could cast four times before resting, also managing to achieve far more power with the spell than the other two.

The regiment of training all day proved too exhaustive to maintain, especially as the students were still recovering from the first days regiment, and so they only spent a few hours practicing over the following days and split the remainder of their time on exploring the castle and gaining a cursory overlook of their other subjects. That said, while Anthony and Hermione were more focused on academics, Harry found it difficult to focus for long and would often leave the other two for a short run on the castle premises or an extended session practicing his combat spell.

* * *

Then the big day had finally arrived: the day when school would officially begin. Surprisingly, the students were all portkeyed out of Hogwarts to the train station where they would be arriving with the rest of the school 'the proper way', something that seemed very arbitrary and ridiculous to Harry, and left Anthony muttering about the, to him, obvious sign that the train ride was a 'mind-controlling machine' that would turn them all into 'model citizens without freedom'. This was naturally contested by Hermione leading to another argument that ended with Anthony convincing his companions to, at the very least, keep the petal of a flower on them that he had read could have beneficial effects towards protecting the mind from intrusion. And so there they were, seated in a compartment in the train, each having a petal of the _Sagacitas_ flower securely tucked away in their clothing.

"Remember" said Anthony, "Avoid eye contact with everyone to avoid being caught in a spell and keep your petal on you at all times".

Harry and Hermione nodded, if a bit unwillingly on Hermione's side of things. Soon the train starting filling with students, all walking past the trios' compartment upon seeing it occupied, but eventually someone stopped to enter – a boy with red hair looking miserable as he lugged along his heavy bag.

"Hey, my name's Ron, mind if I join you? Everywhere else is full."

"Of course,", replied Hermione, shifting over to provide space for the newcomer. Anthony and Harry proceeded to stare suspiciously at the boy whilst taking care to avoid making eye contact as Hermione introduced herself.

"… and this is Harry and Anthony".

Ron nodded as Hermione spoke before focusing on Harry and exclaiming "Blimey! You're Harry Potter! The boy who lived!"

The others stared.

"Wait, you guys don't know?" Ron was speaking only to Hermione and Anthony at this point, assuming Harry knew despite his dumbfounded expression, "That over there is Harry Potter, the boy who killed the Dark Lord when he was just a baby! The only person to survive the killing curse, and from he-who-must-not-be-named of all people. He's practically the most famous wizard alive in England today!"

"I think you have me confused with someone else", Harry responded before Ron could go on "I am a muggleborn who only recently discovered magic and have certainly not killed any Dark Lords in my lifetime. Especially not as an infant."

Now it was Ron's turn to look at them in confusion "Harry, lift up your hair in the front, would you?"

Harry did so, revealing a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt.

"There you go, proof. The only Harry who would have that mark is the boy who lived, that's the wound you got in your duel with the Dark Lord", said Ron pointing at the scar "Bloody hell Harry, do you really not know? About magic? About yourself? You're a hero Harry!"

After a lengthy explanation Harry had pieced together that he had somehow avoided death at the hands of a curse that was supposedly infallible and defeated the greatest Dark Lord England had ever known at the tender age of one. Apparently, his parents had been magical too, but they had died that night. There were, however, a number of myths about his life after defeating the Dark Lord he had had to debunk; he had most certainly not faced a manticore, no less slain a dragon or invented a spell. That is to say, unless there had been some memory altering magic in play, but surely that would be too blatant? If, as Ron would have him believe, he was a national hero, it seemed unlikely that his memory would be replaced and then he put into a situation where everyone else knew but him. It was a lot to take in and Harry was soon left staring out of the window trying to place it all as Ron and Anthony played a game of wizarding chess.

His ruminating watch of the skies was soon abruptly stopped as he noticed the black shape approaching at a high speed. He felt something rising within him as he watched the bird far off in the distance, he knew that form. There was an inner struggle going on within him as some force tried to suppress his emotional response, but it was too late. He had seen Ánemos.

Slowly the memory of swearing to protect Ánemos came back to him, then, as if a flood gate opened, it all came back to him. He remembered the only friend he had when living with the Dursleys, the little bird that he had raised after wrongfully killing its parent. He remembered it fearlessly assaulting the giant that had come to kill him, saving his life in the process. He remembered everything.

Harry's knees buckled as his mind struggled to process everything that was happening. Frustrated and angered, Harry raised his wand to the window. He then thrust it forward and shouted "Eicio" and the glass exploded outwards. Then Ánemos came flying in and as the bird touched Harry, he felt its emotions, and the empathy link the two had shared was re-established. He knew that Ánemos did not blame him, but felt guilt nonetheless and held it close, ignoring the stares his cabinmates were giving him. Ánemos was back.

A turmoil of emotion rose within him; sorrow, fear, regret, and happiness assaulting him all at once, filling a hole he didn't know existed until now. Then came anger, unrelenting anger at whoever made him break the oath he had sworn to protect this bird, anger at the person who would take something so precious away from him. He was trembling as he slowly stood, ignoring the cries from his companions as lightning coursed through his body, illuminating his skin. His heart and soul were filled with unbridled anger, but what was the object of his anger, whom to direct it at? Standing here and calling upon his powers in their completeness made him feel more powerful than ever before, but at the same time there arose an undeniable sense of powerlessness. He could rage all he wanted, but what would that accomplish? He could not get back at those who wronged him, not now, perhaps not ever. Feeling defeated, he sank back to the floor and the power sank back into him.

Hermione stared at the display with terror and awe, there were scorch marks where Harry had been standing moments before as lightning had seemingly leapt out of his body and covered him from head to toe, miraculously not harming Harry himself. For a moment, Harry had become something more. Something beyond human, something to be feared. Then it had disappeared. The muggle sentiment of the calm before the storm would describe the situation perfectly, as they all sat in complete silence. Then Harry began to speak, his words quiet and emotionless but heard clearly by his three listeners. And he told them. He told them of the bird he had saved long ago and the oath he had committed himself to, the oath that had been stolen from him.

When he finished silence filled the chamber once more, but was soon broken as Ron said "Harry, that was so cool!" and the tension in the room deflated. What followed was a clinical line of questioning conducted by Hermione and Anthony on Harry's lightning abilities, and he gave them a full account of his story.

"Bloody hell Harry", started Ron, "I've heard of people that have affinities for one element or the other, but the level of control you have over lightning and wind is way beyond all those stories. To be able to summon that much lightning from nothing, and without even a wand, you'd have to be really powerful."

"Indeed, makes some of those stories about you seem more likely", said Anthony with a smile "All hail the Dragon-Slayer!"

"From what I have gathered, Dragons are beasts the size of buildings with high intelligence and incredible resistances to all manner of attacks, including a nigh-absolute magic resistance. There is a big difference between summoning some lightning and slaying one of them" tried Harry, but the others remained unconvinced.

"Well, I guess this confirms the mind manipulation theory", said Anthony "Also, I'd bet that the reason Harry was able to regain his memories when he saw the bird was because he had the _Sagacitas_ plant in his pocket"

At this point he suddenly realised Ron was in the cabin with them and quickly improvised.

"I mean, when we hatch the plan to take over the world with mind control, thereby the mind manipulation theory, and become absolute monarchs with thought police and the like we can grow real _Sagacitas_ plants unlike the fake ones we have in our pockets and make our insane conspiracy into a reality! Ron, how would you like to join in the leading this country forward? We currently have most of Europe under control and are thinking about expanding into Asia soon."

There! By making it out to be a joke and adding in a blatant lie Ron would not take it seriously. Or, at least, Anthony hoped he wouldn't. Ron's identity as a pureblood made him dubious by definition. Especially now that the mind manipulation theory had been confirmed.

"… Sure?"

"Welcome, Ron! You are now the latest member of _The Rising Sovereigns_." Anthony stopped himself from making Ron recite the 'secret oath' upon spotting Hermione's glare and rather shrugged unapologetically.

They were then saved from further awkwardness as a woman came by selling snacks and Harry, wanting nothing more to drown his world in chocolate, ordered an assortment of the sweets for them to share.

Ron, looking very pleased and munching on the leg of a chocolate frog, soon asked "So can you teach me the spell you used to shatter that window? That was epic! I've only learnt one spell so far and that was one that my brothers showed me, but nothing as bloody impressive as yours."

"Okay, fine", replied Harry, and the three soon started spouting out random advice to Ron as he attempted the spell. Interestingly enough, Ron learnt the basics of the spell to the degree that he could cast it at a fraction of the time they had taken. It seemed that he only needed to work on his pronunciation and wand movements, and after that his magic responded immediately producing the desired effect. To Ron's disappointment his spell was far weaker than the one he had seen Harry cast, but they quickly assured him it took them days of constant practice to get them to their current proficiency at the spell.

It was soon decided that the first goal of _The Rising Sovereigns_ would be to master this spell to the point where they could cast it almost effortlessly, for it certainly seemed a useful ace to have up one's sleeve. Thereafter they came to a stop and after a brief journey came to a stop inside a hall full of students. Let the sorting begin!

* * *

One by one the students were sorted and by the time Harry's turn had come Anthony had already been sorted into Ravenclaw and Hermione into Gryffindor.

Harry had tried to find out as much as he could about the sorting before it began, fearing being put through some kind of test he was wholly unprepared for. Seeing him fret, one of Ron's older brothers, Percy had assured him that it was merely a hat that would be put on his head and read his mind before deciding to put him, not realising that the mention of mind reading turned Harry's relatively mild fretting into a terrified panic. Upon hearing that the hat would take the students preferences into account, Harry determined to agree with whatever house the hat suggested first to minimise the time he spent with it reading his mind.

As the sorting had begun, Harry noticed that some students, such as Draco Malfoy, were sorted as soon as the hat grazed their head and so Harry figured that if the student already had a clear idea of where to go, perhaps the hat needn't look beyond the surface of the mind. Thus, as he approached the hat, he began mentally chanting 'Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw'.

"Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw"

"Are you sure that's what you really want? I see a conflict in you between choosing Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, and both would serve you well."

"Please, just make a choice and sort me, either choice would be great"

"Why, aren't you an impatient boy. Not many are so quick to dismiss a choice that will determine their future, and it certainly wouldn't make much sense for a Ravenclaw, but wait, what this? Bwahahahahaha, it's been a very long time since I have laughed like that, and it shall be very interesting to see what becomes of you here. Very well, you have clearly proven yourself worthy of being in Ravenclaw, though you will be the first of your kind not to land in Gryffindor. **RAVENCLAW** "

"Whatdoyoumeanfirstofyourkind-" Harry attempted as the hat was taken of his head but got no response. Thus, he took a seat next to Anthony under the cheers of the Ravenclaws and the looks of betrayal directed at him from the Gryffindors.

After a short speech from Dumbledore, a feast magically appeared before them and Harry dug in with great enthusiasm. While the Dursley's hadn't exactly starved him, they had not been particularly generous with his food. After that they were off to the Ravenclaw dorms and the prefects decided that everyone take an early night so as to be ready for the first day of classes, and promptly sent everyone to their beds.

Harry woke a few hours before sunrise and immediately got dressed for a morning run. As he traversed along a path he had selected the previous day, his mind wandered to The Rising Sovereigns. It would be a nice cover for their real investigation into the wizarding world and could surely be utilised as an excuse for more illicit activities, but when would they have the time? Having taken a look at his schedule, Harry had come to realise that a significant portion of the day would be consumed by classes and, taking homework into account, they would only have a few hours each day to themselves. Thereby, it seemed that the first goal they would have to have would be to find some way of getting more time to work with, perhaps through a spell that would circumvent sleep or even slow time down during the day? This was all assuming they had not already been discovered, the hat had seemed to get some information out of him after all and they were still unclear as to the level of control the teachers had over the students. That would be the end goal of The Rising Sovereigns, to topple the magical society as they knew it. Still, there was one other thing that bothered him, what was it that the hat had told him just before it sorted him? That he was the first of his kind to go into a house other than Gryffindor? Who, or what, were his kind?

* * *

Three men walked into a dark alley; one walked out. He wore a dark cloak and hat, concealing his face and keeping the sunlight out. Underneath, an expensive tuxedo was visible. It was night in Hungary, a dangerous time to walk the street in this particular region, but not for this man. Not for his kind. Midnight was their time to hunt, their time to let loose terror on the world. Tonight was special, the blood moon had appeared in the sky for the first time in almost a decade and he could feel the bloodlust arising within him. Tonight, he would feast on royalty and nothing could stop him.

He looked off to the distant window in the palace where he knew the princess was staying, and his sinister smile was visible for a moment before he disappeared, melting into the shadows, becoming invisible to mortal eyes. He sped through the darkness, and soon he was in the vicinity of the guards, their eyes glowing with detection magic. Their confidence would be their undoing. The shadow crept through the night, counting. There were seventeen of them, how pitiful. The shadow calculated, then acted. He leapt from target to target, touching each on the back of the head with the slightest of pressure. Such was his speed and elegance that not even a fly would have stirred, much less these men.

That was the outside done, next was the inside. The shadow traversed from room to room, touching each soul within the building. Finally, he reached the princess's chamber. He crept inside and saw her lithe form sleeping ever so innocently on a soft bed and licked his lips in anticipation. Slowly he began to work his subtle magic and the princess soon began sweating and shifting in her bed as nightmares assaulted her. Then she awoke suddenly and saw her nightmare come to life before her. She screamed and the figure laughed. Such terror. It was refreshing. Shuffling could be heard from outside as the household awoke, but the figure merely lifted an open hand, and closed it slowly. The shuffling stopped, soon followed by the thumping sound of bodies falling to floor, and then silence. The creature approached his helpless victim when a great wind blew through the mansion, and the creature heard his master's call. It froze and sneered before leaping off into the night, its quarry all but forgotten.

Editor's Note: Yes, the spell for levitation is 'levitatus'. No, it is not a mistake.


End file.
